


When the Curtains Fall

by OwletPNG



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Link In the Fic, M/M, based on kairoskairo's comic, but i posted a different thing, meant for dimilixremix, this is the fic i was planning!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwletPNG/pseuds/OwletPNG
Summary: Felix scrambles to his feet, watching as the roar of battle goes by, and all he can see is his king, and how he has died far too many times in his life.For Dimilix Remix! I'm not including this in the archive because it was my backup!! Based on kairoskairo's comic of Felix dealing with his baggage with Glenn, his duty, and his complicated feelings about Dimitri. Link will be in the fic!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	When the Curtains Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the 2nd time dimitri dies, felix is there to see it](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/621181) by Kairoskairo. 



> Hi all! This was meant to be a remix of https://twitter.com/kairoskairo/status/1190668014645129216?s=20  
> It was a lot of fun doing this, and I thought it would be nice to visualize and write down what Felix exactly goes through and feels. I hope you enjoy!

When the curtains rise, Felix experiences the beginning and the end. 

He remembers a time, when Dimitri was young and alive. He remembers his soft hands, holding onto Felix, as the latter cried his eyes out over everything and anything. Felix remembers the way Dimitri would smile, a ray of sunshine in the bleak world, patting his cheeks and promising to play once more when they meet. Felix remembers the way Dimitri would laugh with him, lighting up the room in a single heartbeat.

Felix remembers the day his little heart beat so quickly he had felt faint, when Dimitri had taken his hand, kissing it, and then giving him a shy smile. 

He remembers the toy dagger that Dimitri had gifted him, smiling sweetly as he called Felix his shining shield. In his little heart he had decided that if Glenn could be the advisor to Dimitri, then he would be the knight protecting the pocket of sunshine. He remembers the day he understood it as love, love so pure and simple, that it made his heart swell, and the world became beautiful whenever Dimitri would smile his shy smile. 

Back then, when their little hands were connected, Felix could do anything. Anything, for his love, for his king, for Dimitri. 

He pledged his heart, his soul, to the boy he loved, to the man he would become, and to the soul that would never falter.

* * *

When Dimitri falls, Felix witnesses the consequences.

The letter detailing the death of the king, of Glenn, had shattered Felix’s world. Destroyed it, crumbled his very walls. And the words that fell from his father’s lips cursed the memory of Glenn. If this was what it took to be a knight, to sacrifice himself, to be mourned as a hero when death had been cruel, then Felix decided he wanted no part in it. He had yelled, he had screamed at his father, and when it mattered the most his father shunned him.

Felix had run to Dimitri, seeking out the sunshine again, among the shadows he stood. But Glenn had stolen the sunshine with him, leaving a cold husk behind. Glenn had stolen the very sun he had wanted, and the world grew dim, darkness once again flooding, and Felix turned to building up his walls, his cage. The monster that was left, without Dimitri to rein him in, only grew, and with each day passing Felix felt the warmth he once felt disappear into the abyss.

His father had decreed Felix take up the role Glenn had taken, and Felix could see it. See it in his father’s eyes. Would he lose his life the same way Glenn did? In duty to his king, no, to the beast that now resided within. Duty could take a piss, if that was to be his fate. 

He remembers the day he swore at his father, that he would never take the position, that he would rebel, fight back, and he had decided that day, swearing upon the toy dagger that Dimitri had given him, Dimitri, when he was still alive, and warm, and kind, to cut his own path, away from the beast that resided within.

It had been foolish, that in his own mind, Felix held onto hope. Hope that Dimitri still resided within, sleeping. It was foolish, that when the boar would cast him a kind smile, or a brush of a hand, that made his heart thump, and his walls crumble down ever so slightly. Felix had searched, clinging desperately to the hope, and yet every time he saw the boar take to the battlefield, his hopes were crushed to bits, again and again, and Felix had scoffed at the hand given to him. This was not his Dimitri, the one he swore his life to. He had snapped and ran away, ignoring the way his heart was crying. This was not the king Felix had loved, and yet his heart betrayed him, yearning for his touch, for his kindness, and Felix found his feet returning to stand by the boar’s side time and time again. And each time, the grateful smile casted towards him sent his heart aflame, and hope would reignite again, at the smallest glimpse of his Dimitri. 

In the murky waters of emotions that would always send him reeling, Felix found himself sinking deeper and deeper.

He held fast to the boy that taught him love, away from the beast that he feared, and searched desperately for the soul he tied his fate to.

* * *

The second time Dimitri falls, Felix is there to watch it.

Gronder Field was a place of murder, blood spilling where weapons collided with skin. And in the middle the boar remained slumped, arrows digging into the armour. Everything screams at Felix to run, to flee, to preserve his life, but his feet were moving too fast, returning to the boar, his hands reaching down to grip the too broad shoulders, willing the matted hair to look up. Swords on swords became muted, the yells and roars from the battle around him descend into a fading noise, as his hands slip on liquid staining the cloak, as he pushes the boar up, his muscles screaming at him to run, to flee, to leave the boar be, and yet his heart was thrumming. The boar does not move, only slumping onto Felix’s shoulders, and Felix pushes a dark thought to the back of his mind. It cannot be true, it cannot, it will not!

“Get up! Get up, there will be more soldiers on us in a second!” He spits out, snarling, anger a familiar emotion. He pushes again, and time seems to slow, as his hands grips onto the chill of the armour, of the liquid that now stained his hands red, of the too large a cloak hiding the little one he sorely hoped for. It was cold, despite the sun. The smell of blood and sweat stung his nose, and Felix wanted to scream. The chill sets in, and despite this Felix does not shiver, for it is only the temperature, only the battlefield, and not the chill from the warmth of the liquid now on his gloves, soaking in through the leather.

“Move, boar! Move! I will not die here, do you hear me? We will not die!” His voice is rising, as he struggles to fight against everything. He cannot, he will not lose another. Desperation seized his heart, and fear worms its way into his fingers, trembling with the might he was pouring in, to push the boar to his feet. Felix has lost enough, he has lost Glenn, he has lost Dimitri, he will not lose the boar, not to this death, not like this. He has enough! Not him, he prayed so desperately to the Goddess. Anyone but him, anyone but the boar! 

Hope was dying, petal by petal, but so long as the boar is still alive, so too would his hope bloom once more, that Dimitri would return.

Desperation only continues to climb, his heart racing, his blood singing in fear of the arrows, of the swords all around him. The battle is no longer on his mind, but adrenaline in his veins were tugging at him to flee, to run. 

For a moment Felix fears a weapon dropping into his heart, but nothing came, and fear renewed sent him shaking. 

“I won’t be like him, I will not die for you!” he shrieks, his hands slipping once more on the liquid, and he resorts to tugging on the edge of the cloak, a rising feeling of doom clutching at his feet, slowly reaching out its dastardly claws at him. This cannot be true, this will not be true! Felix will not die here, not for the boar, but only if the boar would MOVE! Move, boar, so that he and Felix would survive, to live another day, so that Dimitri would remain alive! He sees it in his mind’s eye, Glenn across the shore, gripping Dimitri far too tight in a death grip, and no matter how much Felix screams Dimitri cannot flee back to him. Release him, Felix begs, release him and let us go back.

Glenn does not release Dimitri.

“Right now,” Felix breathes, tears stinging at the corner of his eyes, “I need you to move.” There was no longer venom in his words, only tears, and fear, and desperation. He slams his fists into the back of the boar, willing him to get up, to roar with familiar ferocity, to swing that lance of his and cut down their enemies. The battle is not over, and there will be people who wish to drive their sword through his king. His king, who now remained unmoving, despite his pleas. “Move, boar, move!” A choked sob echoed, and it took Felix a moment before he realized his own voice had produced such a sound, and the chill settles in his heart once again. 

He cannot let Glenn take another. He cannot let his duty stop him, he cannot let his duty leave the man he love to the dust while he becomes another ghost to haunt his every step.

“Felix.”

The world comes to a standstill. Don’t say it, Felix pleads. He wills everything to stop the boar from talking. He cannot. If he heard another word, his world would shatter. He hears the sorrow, the fear, and yet the beast does not waver. Why now, would he choose to surface, bringing with him the calming strength in his dying breath? Not with that sweet voice he sorely missed, tinged with tiredness. Felix wants to close his eyes and wake up in bed, away from the war. He hears the boar take another breath, and Felix holds his own, do not talk like that, do not speak, do not, do not, do no-

“Enough.”

It echoes. It echoes in his mind, his heart, his entire body, the deep baritone of the voice of the man that he knew not of, and yet loved with all of his heart. His body begins to shake, and Felix feels the entire world descend into darkness. The kind and gentle soul of Dimitri, fading away. Glenn, at his side, turning away, casts Felix once more into the shadow. The boar’s depleting warmth, and Felix wants to scream. Bring him back, he yells into the darkness, as his world shatters to pieces with a single word.

Bring him back, he screams, desperately clinging onto the boar, as he pushes and pulls, as he wills him to stop talking and to wake up, to move, to get out of danger so that he could heal and recover, and Felix would never lose him again. Not like this. He hears the last breath breathed in, and Felix screams in silence, wanting to wrap his hands around his ears to stop the final words from sealing it. He doesn’t need to know what the words are. He already knows who speaks them and oh what a fool he had been for the years.

His heart was already shattering to a million pieces, and his voice raw, from his screams, in an attempt to stop the words from entering his ears. His hands pull on the icy cold skin, the breath warm, but cold to the touch. Felix wants to laugh and yell and cry. He had been a fool not to see, every peek, every glimpse of the sunshine he knew. He never saw past the boar, hope blooming in his chest, but never did he think to breach past the boar, to reach out to his sunshine hiding within. And look at him now, pathetic, weak, clinging onto the last breath of the man he loved, the slowing heartbeat in his ears.

Felix wishes that he had given up his hope back then. He wishes he could turn back time. Duty had determined him to die for Dimitri. But duty also kept him close to the very soul he had clung to, and in cutting a path for himself he foolishly forgot what he had been fighting for. Glenn had not stolen Dimitri from him, he realises, but it was himself that had shunned his very sunshine that he had been looking for. If only he had looked to the future, perhaps he would have seen what lay beneath. 

He knows, from the voice, that it is Dimitri, that he was the boy Felix had loved, the man he should have looked at, and the soul he pledged himself to.

“You have to let me go.”

The second time Dimitri dies, Felix stares as his curtains fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @owlthepen


End file.
